


The Green Monster

by beadedslipper



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Jealous!Jack, Romance, miscommunications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beadedslipper/pseuds/beadedslipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lately, Jack's jealousy has been getting the better of him.  He's been wearing it on his sleeve for the last couple of weeks and things have begun to fray between him and Miss Fisher.  When he lashes out again, it takes an already precarious situation from bad to worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Green Monster

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on Jack's behavior in Episodes 1 and 2 of Season 3. No real spoilers but if you haven't seen it, might want to hold off. Otherwise, I hope you like it! =)

He could feel the delicate bones of her wrist against his palm, knew he was squeezing too hard, but his hand wouldn’t seem to obey his instructions to let go.

“You’re not going with him.  I won’t allow it.”  The moment the words left his mouth, the sane voice at the back of Jack’s brain knew that it was a mistake.

“ _Allow_?”  Phryne’s eyes flashed in anger, blatant and righteous.  “You can do as you like.  And so will I.” She ripped her hand free, yanking the door open.  His hand flashed out of its own volition, slamming the door shut before she could escape.

“Dammit Phryne, stop!  For once in your life stop and think about what you’re doing.  Do you have any idea what people think?”

The defiant tilt of her chin told him that she knew exactly what people thought and said of her and her proclivities.  “I don’t give a fig what _people_ think.  What do _you_ think?”

Jack met her glare for glare, his jaw clenched.  He could see the hurt blossom behind her eyes.  “I thought you knew me better than that.”  Her face hardened.  “I don’t need your permission and I _certainly_ don’t need your approval.”

She swept out of his office in a cloud of chiffon and French perfume, slamming the door behind her hard enough that the frosted glass rattled in its frame. 

Jack whirled, cursing explosively and punching the wall.  In two angry strides he was at his desk, pulling a bottle and tumbler out of the bottom drawer and pouring a hearty measure of whisky.  He immediately threw it back and poured another, relishing the burn in his throat.

Damn him, that pretty, desperately rakish musician, and damn her for swanning off after him.

It could be so easy, _so easy_ between them.  They were so close and it would be as easy as breathing to take their waltz to its inevitable conclusion if she would just.  Stop.  Seeing.  Other.  Men!

After that fiasco with Sanderson and almost losing her to Sydney fucking Fletcher and Jack’s own sense of responsibility to Rosie, after overcoming all of that, he thought they were ready. 

But no.  Between interrupted dinners and drunken confessions and thrice-cursed RAF pilots, it had been made abundantly clear to Jack Robinson that Phryne Fisher was most definitely not ready.

He knocked back the second glass and collapsed in his chair, glaring sullenly at the inverted letters on his closed office door.  Now things were off-kilter.  Wrong-footed.  Not right.  And it was entirely his doing.  Logically he knew that.  If he looked at the evidence, it was clear that Phryne hadn’t changed in her behavior, not one jot.  He, on the other hand, having finally determined his intention to pursue Phryne romantically, well, his jealousy when she walked away from him on the arm of another man…men…was almost impossible to contain.  

Everyone around them could see it.  He had been getting odd looks from Phryne.  Collins had been skittish around him for weeks.  Miss Williams’ lips had started to purse every time he entered a room and those two red raggers were giving him even bigger stink eyes than usual.  Even Jack knew his behavior was out of character but he didn’t seem to be able to do anything about it.

So now, instead of the simple harmony that had always been there, there was this rift between he and Phryne born of his jealousy and her apparent indifference.  And it was growing.

And now this.  Again.

Damn it all to hell.

\---

“Come on Dot!” Phryne cried, enthusiastically sweeping her racket to connect with the ball with a satisfying thwack.  Dot squeaked, swatting more than swinging but managing to return the volley.

They were at the Melbourne Society Center indulging in a bracing bout of tennis.  They had gotten some strange looks since Phryne was far from a regular, but she only had to mention her Aunt’s name and the porter practically wept with eagerness to help Prudence Stanley’s niece in any way possible.

So here they were, Phryne having decided that since assault on a police officer was not an option, hitting a fast-moving ball at speed with an oversized flyswatter was the next best thing.

It was quite satisfying.  Particularly since no one said she couldn’t _imagine_ she was assaulting a member of their esteemed constabulary.

_Thwack!_

Stupid Jack

_Thwack!_

How dare he treat her like a child?

_Thwack!_

How dare he judge her?

_Thwack!_

How dare he worm his way into her life and force her to second guess herself?

Upon leaving City South Police Station, Phryne’s every intention was to indulge in a decadent lunch followed by an equally decadent dessert.  The lunch was excellent and her escort, the young, charming, musical nephew of Phryne’s latest murder victim, had made it clear that he was _very_ interested in Phryne’s type of dessert.  He was almost as interested as she thought herself to be, as she should have been.

But, as was becoming typical of late, thoughts of Jack inevitably inveigled themselves in the middle and had her sending the young man on his way before things even started to heat up.

Things had been tense between she and Jack since that failed dinner on the evening that her father arrived in town.  Jack had been short-tempered, testy, and uncharacteristically intolerant of her lifestyle.  He had always been clear that her way of living was foreign, worrisome, and slightly offensive to his old-fashioned sensibilities, but never before had he said something so clearly an attempt to change her.  He had promised not to.

She perhaps should have explained the situation sooner, and in a kinder fashion than hitting poor Jack over the head, but she did try.  Things just kept getting in the way.  And really, she thought he trusted her better than to jump to all the wrong conclusions.  Justified conclusions, perhaps, given her history, but really!  Did he honestly believe she would shove him over just to take up with an old lover _on the same night_?!

And, alright, so perhaps her behavior with Lyle Compton hadn’t been particularly…reassuring, but she was an unattached woman.  And Jack didn’t seem to have any plans to change that any time soon, so really why shouldn’t she indulge?

Yes!  Why not?  She was free, had made commitments to no-one.  She could do as she damn well pleased.

She had done nothing wrong.

She wasn’t oblivious.  In fact, her job title suggested she was the exact opposite of oblivious and when it came to Jack it sometimes felt like she noticed more than she should.  She was perfectly aware that a large part of Jack’s reticence was due to her cavalier attitude towards love.  Namely, the physical should be available and enjoyed as often as desired and that any other more…existential forms, had no place in her life.

That had been true.  Until recently.

With a grunt of frustration she returned Dot’s volley with perhaps slightly more force than it warranted.

She wouldn’t do this to herself.  Jack was responsible for his own actions.  She was a free woman with no commitments to anyone.  Not that she wanted any commitments anyway.  She could do as she damn well pleased.

She had done nothing wrong.

\---

Jack was a smart man.  He knew Phryne was too proud to ever come to him first, particularly if she thought she was in the right.  He was practical enough, and just humble enough, to recognize that if he wanted to talk to her he would have to make the first move.

That didn’t make walking up the steps to the Wardlow while anticipating her inevitable retaliation any easier, particularly since a large part of Jack still felt that his frustrations were justified.

He just prayed her latest toy wasn’t still here.  If Phryne answered the door in her dressing gown…or worse, if her lover did, Jack wasn’t quite sure what he would do.  Could he still arrest the man for public indecency if he was inside someone’s house?

He couldn’t blame that…that _child_.  Not really.  It would be terribly hypocritical of him.  Phryne Fisher’s allure was like the call of a siren.  She was bewitching and captivating, completely impossible to resist and had led many a man to his doom.  Jack was no exception.  So, as much as he wanted to hate the little dandy that she had danced off to join, he certainly couldn’t blame the man.

Contrary to his fears, it was actually Mr. Butler who answered the door.  “Good Afternoon Inspector.” The older man greeted, stepping out of the way to allow Jack into the house.  “How can we help you today?”

“I’m looking for Miss Fisher.”

Mr. Butler inclined his head.  “Of course sir.  I’ll see if Miss Fisher is receiving visitors this afternoon.”

Jack was left standing in the foyer, looking around uncomfortably and trying very hard not to do anything ridiculous like fidget or rock on his feet or march right back out of the house.

Just as the last option was growing in attractiveness, Mr. Butler reappeared.  “Right this way please.”

With a resigned sigh, Jack followed Mr. Butler into the parlour.  The manservant stepped out of the way and revealed the lady of the house in all her splendor.  Mr. Butler took one look between the pair and, in his usual manner, disappeared utterly, shutting the doors behind him.

Phryne was draped regally across the chaise, a drink dangling from her hand, like a queen in her castle. As usual, she was resplendent in a hunter green day gown. A chunky silver bracelet obscured the wrist of the hand holding her glass.  She arched a delicate eyebrow.  “How can I help you Inspector?”

“I want to talk.” Jack replied brusquely, completely uninterested in formality.

“Well, this is an interesting change of pace.  Talk about what, exactly?” Phryne asked coquettishly.

“Don’t play games Phryne.  I’m not in any mood for them.”

Phryne shot him a sarcastic glance.  “Oh really?  I hadn’t noticed.”

Jack gave her a withering look to which she smiled impassively.  “Won’t you sit down?” She asked, gesturing towards a chair.

Jack took a step forward, so used to this routine that he moved before he could stop himself.  When he realized what he was doing, however, he froze in his tracks.  “No thank you.  I prefer to stand.”

Phryne shrugged, unaffected, “Suit yourself.”

There was a moment of terse silence as Jack tried to bite back a question that was burning in his mind and that he knew he absolutely should not ask.  His detective’s mind couldn’t help itself however.

“Where’s Mr. Borkin?” Jack asked testily.

Phryne’s eyes narrowed.  “Not even five minutes and this suddenly seems less like a conversation and more like a trial.”

Jack grit his teeth.  Phryne waved a dismissive hand.  “For your information, Josiah and I had a lovely lunch but then I decided we should go our separate ways.  And we did.”

Slightly mollified, Jack relaxed, though he was still unhappy.  “And next time?”

“Next time?”

“The next time you see a pretty boy who takes your fancy, will you also ‘go your separate ways’ with him or is it more of a case by case basis?”

Phryne’s eyes flashed at the clear censure in his tone.  “I am an unattached woman.  I am perfectly free to step out with whoever I please.” She declared imperiously.

“That’s not true!” Jack cried, throwing his hands in the air and beginning to pace back and forth in front of the parlour door.  He took a deep breath at her shocked expression, running a trembling hand over his hair.  In a quieter voice he repeated, “You know…at least I thought you knew…I thought we both understood…” He released a shuddering breath.  “It’s just not true Phryne.  I don’t know why you choose to torture me or what changed your mind, but it’s not true.”

Slowly, like she was worried he would collapse or scream, Phryne rose from the chaise, taking a careful step towards him.

“But it is true Jack.  And I think that’s really why you’re frustrated, at least in part.  You don’t say anything.  You never say anything even though you respond to my flirtations.  What am I supposed to do?  You’ve _never_ actually asked me.”

“And why do you think that is?  I don’t want to be one of your…your toys.” Jack spat, the word ‘toys’ rolling off his tongue like one might say human excrement.  “I want some sign that I might mean more to you than just…a prize to win.  Can’t you show some restraint?”

“No.”

Jack recoiled.  “Why not?  Why can’t you wait, just a little bit?”

“I’ve been waiting this whole time!  If I wait for you I could be waiting forever!” She exclaimed.  “You are the problem, not me.  You want me but not enough to try to be with me.  That is not my fault and I won’t be blamed for not miserably pining right along with you!”  She sighed, taking a deep breath and gathering composure around her like a cloak.  “The ball is firmly in your court Jack.  It always has been.  If you want to play with me all you have to do is say so and you know it. Until then, I don’t plan to sit on the sidelines.  But this?” She waved a hand between them.  “This…childishly spiteful jealousy?  This has to stop.  I won’t put up with it anymore.”

For a long moment they just stared at each other, breathing heavily.  When Jack made no move to say or do anything Phryne rolled her eyes, sighing loudly and throwing herself back into her seat, curling her feet under her  and propping her head on her hand to stare angrily at the window.

Jack chewed over Miss Fisher’s unexpectedly forthcoming speech.  He had come here today thinking still that he was in the right.  It never occurred to him that in Phryne’s eyes she had been waiting for him to be ready all along.  If that was the case then, as usual, this was all a big misunderstanding.  And that, Jack could fix.

“And what if I did?  What if I told you I was ready for more?  What then?”

Phryne turned her head to give him an appraising once over from head to toe.  “Well, as lovely as make-up sex can be, I’d prefer our first time to be more than a few hours after you accuse me of being a loose woman.”

Jack flinched, blushing slightly both at her unabashed candor and at the subtle rebuke he heard in her words.  “Don’t tease Phryne.  Not right now.  You know what I’m asking.”

Phryne did know what he was asking, what he had always been asking and what was really holding him back.  She studied him for long moments, watching as he grew uncomfortable in the silence, as he fought the urge to fidget and take back his words and take refuge behind their standard distance.  Slowly she rose to her feet, padding across the parlor until she stood in front of him, close enough that he had to tuck his chin to meet her eyes.

She took his tie delicately in hand, rubbing the silky material between her forefingers and thumb.

“ _If_ you told me that you were finally read to give us a try, for real…” She trailed off, meeting his eyes and raising an eyebrow in question.  He nodded almost imperceptibly and she smiled.  “Then I _might_ respond with a sincere interest in giving monogamy a try.  I might say that, if I had you, I couldn’t see myself being interested in anyone else.”  Her lips curved in a smirk.  “Hypothetically of course.”

Jack’s eyes glittered with barely-contained hope.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Your court Jack.  Your choice.  It’s always been your choice.”

Jack released a shuddering breath.  “I thought you knew Miss Fisher.  From the moment I met you, there has been no other choice than you.”

Phryne’s smile was radiant enough to make Jack’s breath catch.  She lifted her hand from his tie, moving to cradle his face.  Her bracelet slid down her arm and out of the corner of his eye Jack saw a flash of purple.  Catching her fingers gently, Jack took a step back and brought her hand up for inspection.  A flash of shame washed through him at the sight of a faint bruise that encircled her wrist.  Hardly breathing, Jack wrapped his hand around her wrist, matching his fingers to the discoloration on her skin.

He met her even gaze with anguished eyes.  “Phryne, I…”

“It’s alright Jack.” She interrupted quickly, smiling in reassurance.

“At least let me say it.”

“It’s already forgotten…”

“I’m _sorry_ Phryne.  It won’t happen again.” Jack promised forcefully, lifting her wrist to brush his lips over the bruise there.

Her eyes glittered.  “It’s truly alright.  Besides, it looks like you made us even.”

Jack frowned in confusion until Phryne tapped the index finger of her free hand just below his split knuckles.  “What happened here?”

Jack blushed.  “I may have had a small disagreement with the wall after you left.”

Phryne huffed a laugh, looking between her wrist and his hand.  “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

Jack grinned, picking up on her amusement despite himself.  “Like two peas in a rather battered pod.”

Phryne smile turned playful.  “How do you feel about pea soup?  It’s only that I have a warm bath waiting upstairs and two peas are better than one.”

Jack blushed.  “As…tempting as that is, I’m not sure I’m in the mood for soup.” At Phryne’s slightly crestfallen look he was quick to add, “Yet.  Not, not yet.  But soon.”

Phryne nodded.  “Soon.” She agreed. 

“For now however, I think we’ve had enough of metaphors and half-truths.  To prevent any further misunderstandings, I propose that we both speak plainly.”

“But that takes all the fun out of it.” Phryne teased.

Jack grinned.  “True.  Perhaps we could try it on for size.  Just for, say, the next couple of minutes?”

“I suppose I could give that a try.  Variety is the spice of life after all.”

“Well in that case, allow me to go first.”  Jack took a deep breath.  “Phryne Fisher, will you step out with me?”

“Yes.” She agreed without hesitation.

“Only me?” He pressed.

She giggled but it was a happy giggle.  “Yes Jack.  Only you.”

Jack sighed in relief.  “Oh thank goodness.”  .  With a sense of anticipation, he finally lowered his head to meet Phryne’s eager red lips in a long-awaited kiss.

It was even better than his most vivid, lovesick imaginings.  Phryne was a willing warmth in his arms and her lips!  They were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.  Jack wasn’t sure he would ever have enough of her lips.  He could only imagine the sweet taste of the rest of her skin.  At this rate he was likely to reconsider his stance on pea soup.

“About bloody time.” Bert’s voice drawled.  The couple broke apart to see Miss Fisher’s entire household plus one very red constable watching them in varying degrees of satisfaction from the (now open) parlour doors.

Jack looked down at the woman in his arms, meeting Phryne’s radiant smile with one of his own.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I felt like Jack's jealous behavior went from zero to 60 between the end of last season and the beginning of season 3. I don't think we've ever really seen him so blatantly judgmental of Phryne before. We've known he isn't necessarily comfortable with it, and we've seen him try to steer her towards more "responsible" romantic paths (i.e. when he tries to send her home instead of letting her go out with Lin). And I know we're meant to assume their relationship has progressed since the end of season 2 since Phryne is planning an obviously romantic dinner that Jack was clearly looking forward to. But something didn't sit right with me. Ergo, this little piece. Hope you liked it!


End file.
